Enraptured (9 page)

The cane scared her even as it made her panties dampen. Was it the sight of Roman holding the cane, or the idea of being punished for his pleasure that turned her on so much?

“Jessica,” Lauren said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Do you mind if Roman sticks around for a while?”

“Of course I don’t mind! I mean, it is your house, after all, sir.”

With Roman watching, the experience would be easier, she supposed. And hotter. While the memory of Roman’s erection from her spanking yesterday got her more excited to play, she kept her expression calm. Nonchalant.

“Okay, Jessica. Let’s start with some basics. We’re going to play ‘Mistress Lauren says.’ It’s like Simon Says, with consequences.”

Consequences. She glanced at the wall of punishment implements and shivered. “Okay.”

“Mistress Lauren says get on your knees.”

Jessica smiled nervously. What kind of consequences had Lauren meant?

I am in over my head.
And Roman was going to watch every second.

“Excuse me,” Lauren said, snapping her fingers. “I said, get on your knees, you cute little whore.” She smiled as she said it, as if it were an endearment instead of an insult.

Still, Jessica’s mouth opened in protest.
Whore?
But she got on her knees and looked up at Lauren. Why had Lauren called her a whore?

Because you sold yourself for forty thousand dollars, just like Elisabeth said.
She
was
a whore. Jessica wanted to hang her head in shame, to call a time-out, to walk away. But instead she just stared at Lauren, the woman who was supposed to be her new friend, and tried to get angry instead of hurt.

“Mistress Lauren says look at the floor.”

Jessica obeyed, seething inwardly.

“Mistress Lauren says put your hands on your head.”

She did.

“Lace those fingers, Jessica,” Lauren snapped.

Jessica laced her fingers, her cheeks burning. Why was Lauren being mean? She much preferred playful Lauren to Domme-Lauren. Domme-Lauren was a fucking bitch. There. Anger. That felt much better than shame.

Lauren tsked. “I didn’t say Mistress Lauren says.”

Jessica didn’t move, just stared at the floor, the smooth hardwood hard on her knees.

“Your first consequence. Stay there.”

She heard Lauren’s heels click on the floor as she walked past her . . . to the wall. Jessica wanted to look up and see what was going on, but she didn’t dare. It sounded like Mistress Lauren was choosing an implement.

Please don’t be the cane.

“Spread your knees, sweetheart.”

Jessica froze, unsure if she was supposed to obey, or if they were still playing ‘Mistress Lauren says.’ She chose to stay in position. If Lauren was going to play rough, she’d play right back.

Lauren sighed and slid the riding crop between Jessica’s thighs, giving a little back and forth swat to emphasize that she should open up.

“Sorry, Mistress,” Jessica said, spreading her knees, her instinct to apologize for herself outweighing her confusion. They were playing a game where she wasn’t meant to win, she could see that now.

“Not yet, you’re not,” Lauren said. Jessica couldn’t see her face but she could hear the smile in her voice. And then the riding crop came straight up, the leather flap hitting square on her pussy. It wasn’t too hard. It didn’t hurt too badly. Instead, it seemed to fire up the nerve endings in her sensitive nether regions.

I don’t want to be a whore.
But the word rang over and over in her head, sounding truer each time.

The thought of safewording came to mind again, but she’d feel like an idiot for wimping out over hurt feelings. She’d always imagined she’d only safeword if there was an emergency, like she was having a heart attack or something.

“Mistress Lauren says, lie on the ground, face-up.”

Jessica got on the floor, grateful to at least be able to see what was happening. She kept her hands laced on her head, since Lauren hadn’t asked her to remove them. From her vantage point on the ground, she could see Roman perched on the spanking bench, watching her.

God, how could he be so hot? It wasn’t fair, it was distracting. Her nipples hardened in the cold dungeon air.

“Roman,” Mistress Lauren said, “With Jessica’s consent, will you do me the honor of stripping her?”

Roman looked at her. “With pleasure. Do I have your consent, Jessica?”

Roman, taking off her clothes? Getting naked, in her admittedly limited experience, was a precursor to sex. As attracted as she was to him, she didn’t want to have sex, not like this, not in front of Lauren. But surely they’d ask again before going that far.

So the real question was, did she trust Roman to respect her wishes? He was waiting patiently for her answer, not touching her until she gave her the go-ahead.

“Yes, sir.”

He hopped off the bench with surprising grace for a man so large, and loomed over her.

“Arms up,” he whispered, and she put her hands up, above her head.

Ah, this was lovely. He looked at her like she was a prize, not like a whore. She felt sexy, putting herself in such a submissive position for him. And from the heat in his eyes, he was into it too.

“You look beautiful like that,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. You do too.” Oh, too much. Too much. “I mean, nevermind.” Jessica shook her head, smiling, finally feeling good again about what she was doing.

“I’m going to remove your shirt.” With that, he pulled on the bottom of her top, lifting it up past her belly button, past her rib cage, up over her breasts, covered in a plain black bra, and finally over her face and hands.

She felt exposed, but wonderfully so. Exposed for Roman. Well, for Lauren, right? It was almost easy to forget about Lauren with Roman’s hands so close to her body.

He went to her feet and carefully removed first one shoe, then the other, setting her shoes to the side.

“Let’s take these pants off, shall we?” he asked, although Jessica knew it was more of a narration than a question. The answer, of course, was yes. For him, yes to anything.

Roman’s long fingers skimmed her belly as he found her zipper and drew it down, reaching behind her and tugging until her pants came down over her hips and ass. He went back to her feet and pulled on the material at her ankles, tugging until her pants slid all the way off.

“I think I like seeing you in underwear even more than seeing you in a bikini,” Roman said. “It feels more taboo.”

Jessica felt the same way. Something about being in her underwear, lying on the floor motionless, and letting him undress her was incredibly sexy.

“Thank you for your help, Roman,” Lauren said, and stood over Jessica. Roman was again on the sidelines, much to Jessica’s dismay.

It didn’t seem fair to Mistress Lauren to tell her she only wanted to scene with Roman when she hadn’t given Lauren a real chance yet. And maybe Lauren hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings when she called her a little whore. She couldn’t have known how much those words would sting.

Or maybe she did, and she thought Jessica would get off on it, like her male subs did. They loved when she humiliated them by making them follow her on all fours like a dog.

The thought made her feel a bit better. After all, even Jessica herself didn’t know yet what turned her on and what didn’t. There was a learning curve for all of them. She wouldn’t know what her limits were until they were pushed.

“What shall we do with you today, Jess?” Lauren asked, kneeling down until her knees straddled Jessica’s hips. It felt like a very sexual thing to do, like they were about to . . . fuck or something. Jessica giggled. She didn’t usually think like that, but when in Rome . . .

(do Roman.)

She laughed out loud now. When in Rome, do Roman? Holy moly.

“Care to share?” Lauren asked.

“Nothing, Mistress. I’m having silly thoughts. I don’t think I’m used to having a woman sit on me.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, ma’am.” She sobered.

“I want you to sit up,” Lauren said.

Jessica frowned. How was she to sit up when she was flat on her back with Lauren straddling her?

“Sit up,” Lauren repeated. “Look at your flat tummy. Surely you’ve done sit-ups before, right?”

Okay. Now she got it. Jessica raised her torso until she was sitting, her nose merely a centimeter from Lauren’s. So close they could kiss.

Kissing was definitely on her list of things she liked. Jessica imagined a scoreboard in her mind, where she listed things she enjoyed during BDSM play and things she didn’t. So far, a little bit of spanking was on the Good list. Being called names was on the Bad list. Getting stripped by a gorgeous billionaire was on the Good list. And so was kissing a beautiful woman—as long as it didn’t go too far. But what was too far? Even she didn’t know yet.

“May I kiss you?” Lauren asked, her breath warm on her face.

“Yes, Mistress.” She liked kissing, and Lauren’s red lips looked rather inviting. She’d certainly much rather be kissed than called a whore.

“You’re frowning, beautiful,” Lauren said, caressing her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I—nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” Lauren said. “Right?”

“Okay. Well, um . . . I didn’t like it when you called me a little whore before.”

Jessica waited for Lauren to laugh it off, but instead she nodded. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Some people like being spoken to harshly, and some people don’t. Now I know you’re in the latter category.” She leaned in and brushed her lips against Jessica’s, and a shiver of desire ran down her spine. “From now on I’ll only whisper sweet nothings in your ear.”

Lauren nibbled Jessica’s earlobe, and Jessica moaned with pleasure. Telling Lauren how she felt hadn’t been hard at all, and now she felt so much better, knowing that Lauren had only been trying to turn her on instead of insult her.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

R
oman watched the two women kiss, his cock at half-mast. Yeah, it was hot. But it wouldn’t be really hot until Lauren actually did something to the innocent girl. He wanted to see Jessica flogged. Would she like it? Would she get wet?

He sat back and waited. It was their scene, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to cut in or make a suggestion. Fuck.

Stripping Jessica had been so erotic, so sweet and sexy. The way she looked up at him, with her arms above her head . . . it was easy to imaging her submitting to him that way, in bed perhaps.

Why did he essentially give her to Lauren and Marc when he should have kept her for himself?

He’d trained so many girls before, and never let his emotions get the best of him—before Elisabeth, anyway. He could do it again. Having a beautiful slave sitting at his feet would be the perfect antidote to the downward spiral he’d gotten himself into.

Yes, he wanted to keep Jessica. And he wanted to keep his emotions—and his heart—out of it. It was possible, as long as he didn’t let himself fall for her. If he was the one training Jessica, he wouldn’t be kissing her. That would be a bad idea, considering how attracted to her he felt. He’d have to be even stricter than usual—a tall order, considering he already required complete submission from the women he trained.

He didn’t want to stay on the roller coaster of training one woman after another, each eventually leaving to find another Dom when he was through with them. Why couldn’t he have a permanent submissive? A collared slave. His forever.

There would be no need for love to get in the way. Love was too dangerous, more dangerous than any whiplash. But if he could convince a girl such as Jessica to live with him as his slave without expecting it to turn into something else, then he could be content. Happy, even.

Roman hadn’t been truly happy in way too long.

“Roman,” Lauren said, mid-kiss. “Jessica should get to experience some of your dungeon other than the floor. What do you recommend?”

Finally. He stood slowly, looking at Jessica as he spoke to gauge her reaction. “I recommend she be flogged, but not restrained. It will teach her submission to stay still of her own accord.”

Jessica’s pretty cheeks reddened and she looked at the wall where the flogger was held. “I’m willing, sir. Mistress.”

“Great!” Lauren stood and reached out her hand to help Jessica up. The girl stumbled a bit, as if she’d risen too quickly and gotten dizzy.

Roman held her elbow to support her. “Are you all right?” he asked, concerned.

“I think so,” she whispered. “Just scared. Never been flogged, either.”

“Nothing to be scared of,” he said. “You might like it—many people do.”

“What do I do?”

“Put your hands on the wall with your back to us. Don’t move, for your own safety. If you move, I’m sure Lauren will have some sort of response.”

“That gives me an idea,” Lauren said, raising an eyebrow at him. “How about I flog her, and if she moves out of position, you get a shot.”

“I’d rather use the paddle. You flog, I paddle,” Roman suggested.

“Love it! Jessica, are we green to go?”

Jessica nodded. “Green, ma’am.” She looked at Roman. “Full disclosure, since I want to make sure I’m not keeping quiet when I should say something, like when Mistress Lauren called me a . . . a whore.” She took a breath and paused. “I’m scared of being paddled by you, sir.”